Tantalus
by Supersticiousmonkey89
Summary: [AangxKatara][ZukoxKatara] The pomegranates. The stones. The avatar, shielded by the rain. Sweet, delightful rain. He shall be shielded no more. Taste the pomegranates. Taste the soup. They're good enough to die for...


Tantalus

Supersticiousmonkey89

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

_She, the fruit whose spicy orient taste  
Excites the palate as it does the mind;  
A fecund store where walls run coruscating red  
And Tantalus reigns in court of darkest night. _

**Mill Field**

I fold my hands in prayer. Prayer to the sun for warmth, and to the wind for protection. The scent of pomegranates fill the air. It is a scent I am not unaware of.

I have smelled it for many months.

"My lord?" begs a boy of ten, no wiser than a moth, he wears a scar against his arm. Bright and red. Dark like the sunken moon "The avatar has sent a message. He wishes to feast at your table on the morrow of black waters. Will you see him, my lord?"

I nod as I must.

The smell is gone now, interrupted by the showers of innocence and dancing of youth. To be young again... Once I to was young. Young and sweet and whole. Once I had a sister, pale faced with eyes of distant stars.

I lay down to rest and taste the dulcet kisses of dreams.

The morning has come at last, and I walk once more through the stony walls of the palace. The stones of Earth mixed with water and air, burned with fire and blood. Father's blood drips upon these walls and washes against these floors.

It was his blood that choked him while he tried to scream.

While he tried to curse a name.

"It is unwise to dwell upon the past, dear nephew." My uncle's voice. I smile. An old voice. Old like my eyes, but they dwell to much on the horizon. Dwell to little on the walls and the stones.

"Yes, uncle." I reply. He prays also to the fire, but to the wind and the water and the earth as well. He soaked the stones crimson.

Decidedly, I leave the room. The clash of metal ringing in my ears, the taste of pomegranates close at hand. But uncle does not smell it.

He will not smell it. He shall only taste it.

The avatar is here.

He fawns and gloats and smiles at the servants. He hugs uncle and walks across the wet floor. His clothes are also wet, not from the falling rain, but from the tears of his friends.

Tears of the girl that no more weeps in the grave.

"Zuko?" calls the avatar. Pure and unsoiled even through his mistakes and murders. He remains untainted. The tears of the waterbender washing away it all.

"Avatar." I reply, as necessary. He smiles and pulls me into embrace. I smile back as required. Mother would be proud. Mother taught me well.

Uncle laughs and sends us to dinner.

Uncle leaves to cook.

I speak hourly with him, our words meshed by the blackened sea above alighted by no celestial beings. He grows hungry and I leave to help uncle. Uncle lies silently on the floor. His face staring upwards in disbelief. The moon answers not the prayers of the dead.

I smile happily and pull forth a dagger.

It is the same dagger Uncle gave me.

Through the fingers, the red flows. I stuff them with the toes, deep inside the bread. The rest goes in the soup. Tonight the waterbender will not save him.

Tonight the avatar grows condemned.

Tonight, I damn the wind.

I bring forth the dishes. The guest wait eagerly for my first bite. I take a piece of bread, the soft red staining the pure white. They smile at it, and I eat it easily.

"What is it?" some ask. The avatar asks.

"Pomegranates,"

The smell is back, but I can not taste it. I've tasted nothing since father burned my tongue for insolence. I drink the punch. It does nothing for my thirst.

It comes at last.

Realization of their deeds.

The avatar has eaten the bread. Has tasted the soup. Has condemned himself to mortality. Uncle's eye floats upwards in the soup. The eyes stares at me with resentment. The moon would not save him. The wind was damned. And the Earth flooded in red. On the fire remained untarnished.

The fire of warmth.

"What is this?" asked the Avatar, green and pale. Like the moon he kisses in the night. The moon that should have been mine. Let the tears try and protect him now. Let the seas rise up, the avatar is damned.

I do not answer, instead I eat more of the soup. It doesn't matter. Warm and hungry. Thirsty and hot. I feel the liquid seep through my chest. Stealing away the little drink I have, I hurriedly move to taste it.

But as it reaches my mouth, gurgle and slouch forward.

I see no more.

* * *

Aang ordered the house be searched and stood silently contemplating the now dead king's actions.

Murder. An eye for an eye. A second murder.

"Aang, we think we may have found something."

Moving with the captain of the guards, the Avatar made no noise when they passed the mutilated body of the King's uncle. The only piece left undisturbed was the hair.

After a many steps, the captain opened a door and allowed the Avatar in.

The commander of all elements looked around silently, making no noise until he found something he'd never expected.

A pale, separated, head, with red lips. A honey sweet nectar ran through her lips and golden eyes stared back.

The eyes of the princess.

Princess Azula.


End file.
